


Hundreds of Lovers, Only One Love

by BloodAndRosesBitch



Series: stories inspired by quotes from "a lover's discourse" [1]
Category: Two Guys a Girl and a Pizza Place
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, Quote Inspired, Uhmmm..., Wet Dream, god i really don't have a lot of great tags to put on here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28034673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodAndRosesBitch/pseuds/BloodAndRosesBitch
Summary: Berg reflects on how he's slept with a lot of girls, and how he maybe has been hiding from his own feelings of love for someone a lot closer to home.
Relationships: Michael Bergen/Pete Dunville
Series: stories inspired by quotes from "a lover's discourse" [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053533





	Hundreds of Lovers, Only One Love

_I encounter millions of bodies in my life; of these millions, I may desire some hundreds; but of these hundreds, I love only one. -_ Roland Barthes, _A Lover's Discourse_

I have met so many people; mostly girls (mostly girls I've had sex with). But before I met Pete, I'd never really felt that... specific emotion before. I'd got down lust. I can do that, I'm great at lust. It's what people know me for. I can do the coy infatuation-dance too, I've done it with Bethany and a few other girls. Few and far between, but they were there. At least they were there, and I'll never forget them. It's amazing how the truly special relationships in my life have grown out of the people who wouldn't immediately fuck me.

I have met so many people, but none of them have been like Pete.

"Berg? Are you in there?" Pete asks, nudging my side with his elbow. Miami Vice reruns play on the tv in front of us; we're on the couch. Sonny is saying something about volleyballs.

"Yeah," I murmur, and I can _feel_ Pete's eyes on me. There's a heat to his gaze; maybe it's just me. It makes my skin buzz like when you run your really cold body under really hot water.

"You're not usually this subdued, are you sick?"

I glance at him. "No, I'm thinking."

Pete shrugs, takes a swing of beer, and goes back to watching Sonny comment on Tubbs' good looks for the fiftieth time in a row. Tubbs always gives him that smile-- the one that looks passionate and hungry.

Pete's right; I am more subdued. I've barely drunk tonight. I've barely spoken to him. There's this stupid thought in my head that won't stop circling, a vulture to my roadkill emotions... I should probably talk to Pete about it, but I don't want to.

I really, really don't want to.

* * *

Pete's pressing kisses to my spine. My eyes are fluttering.

I am feeling everything all at once, my brain spinning the wheel of things I could say, because I have to say something.

His hands are next to my head.

"C'est..." My mouth finally spits out. "L'amour!"

He thrusts into me and I scream and ecstasy rushes through my veins and--

And I wake up.

I sit up in bed, my heart racing. My shirt is soaked through with sweat. The door to my bedroom creaks open, and I glance. It can't be anyone but...

Pete's head peeks in. "Nightmares?"

I nod against my own will.

"Can I come in?"

I nod again and curl my legs under me so he can sit on my bed. He sits down and cocks his head at me.

"Are they like before?"

"No," I say. Even my voice sounds groggy. I rub my eyes. "How'd you guess?"

"I heard a scream."

I blush. "That was the neighbors."

He sighs. "Alright. Well, can I help?"

"Can we take a walk?"

He blinks sleepily (adorably-- shut up, head) and nods.

* * *

The night air is brisk and it feels good against my skin. Neither of us got out of our pajamas, so I can feel it everywhere and this coldness is exactly what I needed to get my head back on straight. I am not feeling things that are exceptional or special or once in a life time. I am being friends with my friend.

Pete is walking next to me. I can feel the warmth of his skin. Every step he takes makes me sure our hands will collide.

I blink.

There's no one out here but us, and it would be so easy to press him against one of these buildings and kiss him.

_He wouldn't like that,_ the sensible portion of my brain says. The lying portion chimes in: _You wouldn't either._

"Berg, something's on your mind," Pete mutters. His voice is still soft with sleep.

"No, you're not," I say before I can stop myself.

He gives me The Pete Look. "What is going on?"

I roll my eyes. "Alright. Fine. If you must know... I'm secretly a marmot. I eat leaves and insects. That mac-n-cheese... it was just for fun."

Pete stops. I stop too. He crosses his arms. I cross my arms. He glares at me. I glare right back at him. "Berg, stop _copying_ me and stop _fooling_ around and tell me what is _wrong_ with you, so I can go back to sleep. I have a presentation tomorrow."

I hold up my hands. "Fine, fine. It's just..." My heart is thudding against my chest, and I think I might be about to pass out. Or die. "I don't want this to be a promise I can't keep," I whisper to Pete, and he raises an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

I look at him. Eyes glittering in the dimly lit Boston night. He's so pretty, so much more than me. I mean, people say I'm good looking, but those people have never seen Pete right now, or in the morning before he gets dressed, or when he's eating something he really likes, or during the soft moments in the evening when he comes home from school and he just stays still for a moment. Those people haven't really seen him like I've seen him.

No one sees him like I see him.

"Just..." my voice gets really quiet and I don't have the strength to keep speaking, but somehow I do anyway. "Stand still."

"Alright..." he eyes me cautiously, but doesn't move.

I take a step towards him, and lean in until our noses are touching.

He's barely breathing, and I quit a long time ago.

"I promise you are not like the ones I just have sex with for sex," I whisper, and he nods ever so slightly. His mouth has lagged and now it's partially open. Inviting me in.

I bring our lips together, one of my hands brushing his jaw, the other clasped around his waist, holding him close to me.

He tastes like beer and the instant mac-n-cheese we had for dinner.

He doesn't kiss me back but doesn't push me away either. I lean into him and he lets out a strangled sort of moan, breathy and soft. In its mercurial sound, I hear my name.

I pull away and he stands there, still as a statue, eyes closed and mouth open and breath heaving. My breath is rough and short, too, and I feel like I may have just ruined everything.

All of a sudden, he's animated again, moving towards me and talking loudly and I'm not processing a word. His hands are waving and he's heading towards me, and the lamplight is making him look so beautiful. The city looms up around us, the tall buildings like stone trees. He is so pretty and I feel so much for him.

"Pete?"

He stops moving. "Yeah?"

"I want to do that again."

For a moment, he pauses, and I feel like time has completely stopped. I can see him take a deep breath, and then he runs his hands over his hair and shakes his head and says, impossibly: "Me too."

He runs up to me and kisses me again, and this time our mouths are open, and it feels so good, and we are the only two people in the world. Our noses bump once or twice in the frenzy, but both of us are so entrenched by the simple act of kissing each other we don't care. There are no pauses or reservations. His chapped lips against my soft ones, his warm hands messing up my already too-messy hair, my cold hands under his shirt, our bodies pressed up against each other like there was never anything else in the world. We are the world.

I pull away, and Pete is laughing, his face aglow. I can't help but smile and laugh along with him.

Out of these millions of people I have met, I have fucked over a hundred. But outside of the hundred lies Pete, smoldering with the kind of beauty that lasts well into the grave. Pete is the only one I really want. The only one I have loved for longer than I care to remember.


End file.
